


Gestures of Good Faith

by Springsie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Characters to be added, Eventual Castiel/Dean Winchester, F/M, Falling Castiel, Godstiel: Castiel as God, Leviathans, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating May Change, Warnings May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-07
Updated: 2014-07-07
Packaged: 2018-02-07 19:19:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1910691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Springsie/pseuds/Springsie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the plan to absorb the souls from Purgatory went awry, and the Leviathan scream to be freed, Castiel made a last ditch attempt to make things right. Using his powers as God, he destroyed and remade the universe, exterminating monsters and Leviathan alike; or so he thought.  Now his goal was to find Dean and make sure he was alright, but he didn't anticipate his developing feelings for the man or a danger that he was in no way prepared for in his new universe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gestures of Good Faith

**Author's Note:**

> Greetings, dear readers!
> 
> So this is another fic that I'll be working on along side TFoJ. This one will be updated on Sundays and probably not as often until I finish with my other one. 
> 
> Anyway, I've been playing with the idea of what would have happened if Castiel had used his Godly powers to rewrite the universe for a few months, so I finally decided to write it all down. I hope you lot enjoy it, and as always, comments and kudos are welcome, and please, if you see any typos, let me know so I can fix them!
> 
> Thank you and enjoy!
> 
> -EverBeenToSpace

This was not how things were supposed to happen. Castiel was supposed to absorb the souls from Purgatory and return them when the situation was fixed, that was what he had planned; however, the surging power those souls had given him, and the lust that had come with it was not something he had considered. He was God now and why should He have to give that up? With Him walking amongst His people, He could make the world right again; he could banish evil from the face of the Earth and the humans could live in peace because of Him. The plan no longer mattered if He could set man-kind on their feet once more. 

At first, it had gone well. He had shown His devout followers that their God walked among them, and they wept tears of joy and praised him with songs and words of gospel. He punished the doubters and smote the wicked. But soon, He could feel something dark writhing beneath His skin, demanding to be freed. It was an evil the likes of which He had never imagined possible, and it terrified him. The souls of the monsters He had absorbed into His grace would not have the strength to make themselves known, even in their collected numbers. And then He remembered a tale He had been told as a fledgling of monsters that walked the Earth before Creation. Leviathan, they had been called, and the stories claimed that God, Himself, could not smite the creatures dead and so banished them to a place neither Heaven nor Hell and had called it Purgatory. 

Castiel had always thought they were nothing more than bedtime stories told to young fledglings to make them behave, but He could feel them crawling inside him, tainting his grace black. He could hear the way they screamed for freedom and feel the way they clawed at Him, trying to find any weak cracks from which to escape. It was then that He knew the power of the monsters was too strong for Him to fight alone. 

He found Himself standing before the gates of Purgatory, the Leviathan clawing madly, desperate to be free, to walk the Earth and feed as they pleased. He had the Winchesters at his side, their faces set in determination. They had been through so much since they were children, He realized, and had lost even more. They deserved to live normal lives, lives not tormented with monsters and loss, without the taint of demon blood flowing through Sam’s veins or the guilt of being the ritcious man looming over Dean’s head. And He could give it to them. 

He turned to the Winchesters and watched them with pinched brows before speaking. “Dean, Sam,” He looked to each brother in turn, “I’m sorry, but I can’t return the souls just yet. I have one last thing I need to do.” 

Dean and Sam began to protest, but they were cut off, disappearing into nothing. Castiel had to hurry; He could already feel this dimension collapsing around Him. If the Leviathan escaped now, it would not matter, they would be destroyed in this universe or else wander the void of space for the rest of eternity. It would work, He told Himself, turning back to the gates of Purgatory. They had to be opened now, the eclipse was almost at its peak.

_“Ianua Magna Purgaorii_ Clausa Est Obs Nos Lumine Eius Oculis Nestris Reteno 

“Sed Nunc Ad Limen Ianuae Magnae Et Demisse Fideliter Prehonorifice Paramus Aperire Eam 

“Creaturae Terrifiae Quarum Ungulae Et Dentes Nunquam Tetiqerunt Carnem Humanan Aperit Fauces Eius Ad Mundum Nostrum Nunc Iauna Magna Aperta Tandem!” 

With the spell cast, the gates opened and the wind of Purgatory roared through, pulling relentlessly on Castiel. He held His ground and with a deep breath, let go of the souls. It hurt as they were ripped from his grace, hurt worse than anything he had ever felt before. The power drained from him, as if he were trapped in a vacuum and it were being sucked from his very pores. It had Castiel gasping for breath as he crumbled to his knees. He was no longer God, but he could feel the Leviathan still writhing under his skin, could still hear their collective voices wailing to be freed. If they wanted to be free, then he would let them be free.

“Get out of me,” Castiel gritted out, head bowed as he focused on expelling the monsters from his vessel. He needed to hurry, this world had mere minutes before it expired into nonexistence. 

For a moment, it seemed as if nothing were happening, before, without warning, Castiel’s body was convulsing. One of his arms went around to clutch his abdomen while the other held himself steady, palm flat against the cold concrete floor. He retched several times before he felt an upheave and was vomiting a thick black sludge, the acrid taste of it filling his mouth and nose, making him gag. With the last of the creatures escaping his vessel, Castiel panted heavily, trying to regain his strength; he needed to leave, now. He could feel the fabric of the dimension unraveling around him. 

However, it was several moments before Castiel could even bring himself to take his eyes from the roiling black mass—the Leviathan in their purest form. He knew they could sense the way the universe fractured the moment the oily, black shape began to move toward him, their voices screaming in unison. Recoiling as it grew nearer, Castiel crawled back until he could stand, bracing himself on the far wall. The fracture grew larger and the Leviathan’s screams, louder. Castiel covered his ears and shut his eyes against it all. He was going to die here. 

The last thing he had expected was a hand grasping his wrist tightly, and he started, blade in his hold before he even paused to find out who had him. A second hand took hold of his free arm before he could bury his weapon in his attacker’s chest. When his vision cleared, Castiel saw Raphael’s face inches from his own. He had more hysteria in his eyes than Castiel had ever seen as he glanced between him and the Leviathan writhing their way toward them. Before he could utter so much as a sylable, the scenery changed and they were in Heaven. 

“What have you done, Castiel?” Raphael demanded, voice booming all around them. The archangel paced before him. 

Castiel stepped away, vessel trembling slightly. “I have…” he started, trying to clear his mind and speak plainly. “I have created a new world in place of the old one. A world where monsters are only horror stories and Sam and Dean Winchester can live a normal life.”

Raphael was upon him faster than Castiel could react, gripping the collar of his coat so tightly that he could hear the fabric rip. “You are a fool, Castiel!” he roared, eyes and face holding more wrath than he had ever seen. “You destroyed one universe for those _humans_? Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” When he did not answer, Raphael shoved Castiel away and he stumbled back several steps.

“You deserve this, brother,” the archangel said after a beat of silence, his voice low and deadly. “I should kill you where you stand, but for some unfathomable reason, our Father seems to favor you. He would probably just bring you back again. If you love your humans so much, then you can join them.”

Before Castiel could protest, could beg his brother to reconsider, Raphael stepped forward and simply touched the center of his chest, and he was Falling. He was expelled from Heaven and the pain of his wings being ripped at as he Fell was worse than the souls fleeing his grace and returning to Purgatory, worse than the Leviathan escaping his vessel. The feathers were charring and being ripped out all the way down to the quill, and it was excruciation. 

The landing was no better, tearing at his crippled wings until he came to a stop. Castiel lay in the dirt of his new world, panting and unable to move for the pain. Last he had Fallen, he was merely cute off from the host, powers slowly draining the longer he was kept separate. This was entirely different, this was the closest he could get to understand what Anna had gone through when she Fell, though his grace was mostly intact. He still had angelic abilities, which meant he could find Dean and Sam. In this world, they were not hunters, they had never met angels, had never met Castiel, and so had never been warded against them.

When the pain subsided enough, Castiel struggled to his feet and leaned heavily against the trunk of a nearby tree. He just breathed for a moment, gathering himself further before he took his first look around. It was dark, the only light filtering weakly down from the stars, but Castiel could see the vague shapes of a forest around him. If that was the case, then he needed to find the road. If his senses were correct, Dean was in Sioux Falls and Sam was in Stanford. It took a moment for Castiel to find that odd. If this world had been on the same timeline as the last, Sam should have been graduated law school by now. How far back were they?

It took Castiel longer than he would like to admit to find the road. He had to navigate the forest without the help of his grace; he needed to save his energy for something important. Raphael may have expelled him from Heaven, but that did not mean he would not send his soldiers after him to finish the job. Though it should not have been characteristic of an angel, his brother could be very wrathful. Without his grace to fend himself, Castiel would be virtually powerless against an attack, even with his blade. 

By the time he reached the highway, Castiel was exhausted and he hurt. He could not remember the last time his body had ached, it had not done so even the last he Fell; he had felt exhaustion, of course, pain even, but not aching. The dryness in his mouth was nothing new to him, but he knew he would need to get water soon. Though he was exhausted and sore and thirsty, Castiel began to walk along the side of the deserted highway. He had no idea how far the nearest town was, but someone was bound to drive his way eventually; perhaps they would be kind enough to drop him off at a bus station. 

The sky was beginning to grey as the morning sun fixed to rise and Castiel wan not sure how long had been walking for. His feet hurt and he was beginning to find it difficult to walk straight. Twice he stumbled into the road, and the third time it happened, just as the sun was cresting over the horizon, he was nearly hit by a car. 

Castiel managed to get out of the way as the driver swerved to miss him, losing his balance and falling to the asphalt. His pants tore at the knee and he felt his skin rip on both palms. He barely noticed that the person who had hit him had gotten out of their vehicle, he was so surprised by his scraped hands and the fact that he was bleeding. The only reason he had ever bled before he Fell was at the hands of another angel’s blade. This was…new, to say the least, and Castiel did not like it. He had always admired humans for their resilience and their will to live, however, they were fragile, they could be easily broken. And now that he was Falling, he would soon be human as well, just as fragile as the rest, Castiel felt unsettled. 

The hand on his shoulder startled him and he looked up from his bloodied hands quickly. He found a man watching him with concerned eyes, though he did appear to be practicing due caution. Castiel was not surprised by his wariness, he must be a sight to see, filthy from his time in the woods, no doubt sporting dark circles under his eyes, and now bloody to top it all off. If the human could see his crippled wings folded tightly against his back. 

“Hey, are you okay?” The question interrupted Castiel’s train of though and he refocused his eyes on his face. 

“I Fell,” he responded after a beat of silence that must have been awkward on the man’s side.

“I can see that,” the human said slowly, straightening and shifting from one foot to the other. “Look, you need a ride to the bus station or something?”

Castiel was confused by the man’s first comment. He could see that he had Fallen? Humans should not be able to see any part of his true form, what was so different about this Good Samaritan? It took a moment longer before he realized he was talking about falling in the literal sense, not falling from grace, and understanding washed over his features. 

When he heard a throat being cleared, Castiel got to his feet and nodded. “I’m sorry. Yes, a ride to the bus station would be much appreciated, thank you,” he answered, verbalizing his nod of assent.

He followed the man to his car, sliding into the passenger seat. It was after he had the seatbelt buckled that exhaustion finally took him. He leaned his head against the window and watched the trees fly by as they sped down the highway. It wasn’t long before the green blurred into nothing but darkness. 

When he was woken by a hand on his shoulder, Castiel felt no more rested than when he had fallen asleep. Despite the bright early morning, when he glanced outside, he saw that clouds had blocked out the sun very effectively. The clock on the radio told him that it was just passed nine in the morning, though it did not tell him where he was. 

Castiel unbuckled himself and opened the door. “Thank you for driving me here,” he uttered quietly, glancing around the bus station from his place still in the car. “Where is _here_ , exactly?”

The man gave him a look as if it were obvious. “Pontiac, Illinois,” he said with a tone in his voice that suggested he thought Castiel particularly slow. “Good luck out there, kid. Oh, and here, buy yourself something to eat.” He held out his hand and there was a ten dollar bill held between his fingers.

“I can’t take your money,” Castiel insisted, opening the passenger door wider and sliding a leg out. “Thank you, I appreciate it, I really do, but I can’t take your money.” Before he could get out of the vehicle, the man clapped a hand on his shoulder and tucked the bill into his pocket.

“Seriously, kid. You could use all the help you can get. It’s no trouble,” the man said with a patient smile. “Now get outta here and get something to eat and clean yourself up; you look like hell.”

Without another word, Castiel stepped out of the car and watched it drive away. It was another moment before he realized this was his vessel’s home town, this was where Jimmy Novak had lived with his family. He felt something like remorse for Jimmy’s loss, however, he did not have time to dwell on it; what happened was in the past and no longer his concern. Now, Castiel needed to focus on getting a bus ticked to Sioux Falls. What he was going to do once he got there and found Dean, he was unsure, but it was a start.

As it turned out, bus tickets cost more than ten dollars, and after a rather heated argument with the woman at the ticket counter about why the amount of money he had would not suffice. Castiel exited the terminal in a relatively foul mood. Human emotions in their full intensity were something he was going to have to get used to. Anger over something so trivial was ridiculous, and Castiel felt foolish for letting it happen. What he needed to focus on now was how to earn the proper amount of money his journey required. There was bound to be work in Pontiac. 

The process of finding work turned out to take much longer than Castiel initially anticipated. Apparently most establishments required their applicants to have some form of identification in the form identification in the form of a driver’s license or social security. As Castiel had none, he had been turned down at every business he had seeked employment at. He was growing frustrated with the situation by the time he was turned down for the fifth or sixth time. 

It was late afternoon by the time his stomach reminded him that he was almost human and now required regular feeding. With the ten dollars in his packet, Castiel took a seat in a small diner that Jimmy’s memories said was good. The decor was a bit aged and most of the regular patrons were elderly, but the atmosphere was friendly enough. As he waited to be served Castiel stared somberly out the window, contemplating his dilemma. He could take over Jimmy Novak’s identity, he had considered that more than once during his endeavor. However, Castiel had shot down that option each time the though presented itself. He would not spoil Jimmy’s memory. 

It dawned on him as the waitress approached to take his order that in this new world, there were no monsters, angels now stayed in Heaven, demons, in Hell; there would have not only been no need for the Winchesters to hunt, but with Castiel occupying the body of the Jimmy Novak from the other universe, there would be no Jimmy Novak in this universe. He sighed heavily, the realization setting a guilty weight on his shoulders. 

“You alright, mister?” the young woman asked, and it took Castiel several second before he could even look up at her. “Boy, you look like hell.” 

Castiel looked down at himself when she said that, brows furrowed. He had cleaned the blood from his hands and wiped the dirt from his face, yet people were still saying he looked like hell. Perhaps he needed to wash his clothing as well. Or find something new to wear all together. 

“When an angel of the Lord Falls from Heaven, they tend to look less than…angelic,” he finally sighed, glancing back up at the waitress. She gave him a strange look.

“Right…” she started slowly, obviously uncomfortable as she shifted her weight from foot to foot. “Anyway, can I start you off with something to drink?” she poised her pencil over her pad and waited. 

“Just water will be fine,” Castiel answered after a moment’s thought. “Thank you.”

When the waitress turned to fetch his drink, he stared out the window before glancing down at the menu. He needed to pick something to eat that was under ten dollars. There was plenty, the only more expensive items the ones with stake. Settling on a simple short stack of pancakes and a side of bacon, Castiel set the menu aside and resumed staring out the window, watching the traffic on the street. He had created this universe, he finally realized fully.

The young woman brought him his water and asked if he was ready to order, a wary smile on her painted lips. She returned to the kitchen with the slip before tending to the other guests and Castiel was left alone with his thoughts. How much different would Dean and Sam be in this world? They would have been raised normally, perhaps their mother was even still alive. They would not be hunters because there would be nothing to hunt; Azazal never infected Sam with demon blood and never killed Mary; there were no monsters. How would the Winchesters be as an ordinary family? Castiel continued to ponder those thoughts, even after his food arrived. 

By the time he was finished eating, trying to make it last for as long as he could, the sun was beginning to sink below the horizon. There was no point in continuing his search for work until the morning. For the time being, he needed to find a place to spend the night. Castiel paid the bill for his meal, leaving what he could afford for a tip, which left him with two dollars and seventy-three cents.

Back on the street, he wandered well past sunset, looking for an alley or stoop where he could sleep. When he glanced away from the moon, which he noticed for the first time was very beautiful, Castiel found himself on the steps of a small church. With a hesitation he tried to ignore, he took them slowly, staring at the heavy doors before pushing through them. Perhaps he could stay here for the night, although his hesitant to even set foot in this place of warship; there seemed to be something blasphemous about a Falling angel seeking sanctuary in a House of God.

It was warm inside, and Castiel took a seat in the pews, eyes on the alter and the few candles that had been lit in prayer and offering. After several moments, he sighed and leaned forward, bracing his elbows against his knees and clasping his hands together. Despite the new universe, something in the air told Castiel that his God was still absent, yet he found himself praying all the same.

“Forgive me, Father,” he murmured. “I did what I had to. I’ll admit that I did not go about things in the best way… But the Leviathan are either destroyed or floating in the vacuum of space, so…” He trailed off and raised his eyes to the alter, pleading silently. 

Several minutes later, Castiel stood and made his way slowly toward the pulpit, hesitating when he reached the votive candles. There were a few that were already lit, but he was not sure adding his own would be appropriate. After a moment of though, Castiel struck one of the matches, muttered a prayer and lit a candle far from the others. 

He stood there, watching the little flame flicker, until he heard footsteps echo around him and glanced up. A priest with a kind face was walking toward him and Castiel wavered, unsure if he should leave or not. 

“I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you here before,” the father said quietly. “If there’s anything you need, please, don’t hesitate to ask.”

Despite the kind offer, Castiel did indeed hesitate. “I…need a place to stay for the night,” he finally admitted.


End file.
